


make this feel like home

by whatdoiknowx



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Arguments, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-15
Updated: 2018-09-15
Packaged: 2019-07-12 14:39:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,150
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15997301
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whatdoiknowx/pseuds/whatdoiknowx
Summary: Tour is starting to wear on them a bit.Written for the phandomficfests Tour Fest II





	make this feel like home

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to autumnhearth / autumn-in-phandom for beta reading!

It's a long drive from the airport to the hotel. It seems even longer after the horrid flight they'd just endured.

Well, it hadn't been _that_ bad, not in the grand scheme of terrible flights Phil had taken in his lifetime. It had been pretty shit, though. There'd been a baby right across the aisle wailing for half the flight, which had increasingly aggravated Phil's pounding head. 

The random person to the left of Phil in the three-seat row had decided that Phil looked like he had a keen interest in golf, and would love to chat about the pros and cons of an eight iron versus a nine iron for an hour straight. Or was it a seven iron versus an eight iron? Phil still had no clue what the guy was talking about - he just prayed he never had to see or hear about another golf club in his life. Or an iron, for that matter. 

Actually, he kind of wanted to buy Dan a set of golf clubs for Christmas, as payback for keeping his headphones glued to his head the entire flight, not giving Phil any chance to escape the conversation with the golf man beside him.

The worst ordeal of the whole flight was definitely the amount of turbulence, though, due to Phil's motion sickness. There were a few times where he was genuinely concerned he was going to vomit all over Mr. Golf Enthusiast's lap. Maybe he should have done that - the man surely would have stopped talking about balls and clubs at that point. On second thought, probably not. Phil wasn't sure if anything, even a stranger's vomit, would have deterred this freak from talking about his self-proclaimed "only true love, but don't tell his wife that". Hilarious.

Phil's stomach flips as he thinks back to the tumultuous plane ride. The twisting roads and stop-and-go traffic isn't helping his queasiness either. He presses the button to roll down the window, sighing as the fresh air significantly relieves the nauseous feeling. 

"Put the window back up, it's fucking freezing," Dan grumbles beside him. 

"Put your jumper on, then." Phil looks pointedly at the hoodie that Dan is currently using as a pillow, bunched up against the back of the seat.

"I'm using it." Phil can hear the slight frustration in Dan's tone. "Just put the window back up. How can you even be hot in here? It's freezing," he repeats.

Phil closes his eyes, trying to focus on the cool breeze drifting into the car. He takes a deep breath, then another. "I need the window down. Don't feel good."

He can hear the low sigh Dan lets out. "Didn't you take your anti-sickness tablets? You're supposed to keep those on you during flights and shit."

Phil feels a flash of annoyance. He feels like he's being scolded, like a child. "Yes, _mum_. I took the tablet. Before the flight. You know, like they're meant for?"

"So, take another one." 

Dan's dismissive tone sends another glimmer of annoyance down Phil's spine. "Yeah, because there's not a restriction on how many I can take in a certain time period or anything. Good suggestion, Dan." 

Phil's thankful that they got the car to themselves, the few other members of the team from their flight in a different car. He hopes the driver isn't paying attention to them, because he's well aware they sound like bickering children. He shouldn't care, since they're on the other side of the world and will never see their driver again, but he always cares about these sorts of things - how others perceive him, how he affects others' days, if he's making things awkward for someone else.

Dan doesn't care about that sort of thing. Phil knows he finds it endearing when Phil goes into his 'social meerkat' mode, and that he loves to step up and take control of situations when Phil's too awkward or socially anxious to. Phil loves Dan for that, among many other things.

Right now though, he kind of wants to slap Dan. Not actually, but just in theory. He wants to mentally slap Dan. Dan's in one of his moods, his petulant child mood, and Phil really doesn't have the patience for it right now.

So, when Dan's response is a disgruntled, "Fuck off," Phil responds by flipping him the bird and rolling the window down even further.

Dan huffs loudly, exaggeratedly removing his jumper from under his head and tugging it on. He turns on his side, away from Phil, tucking himself up against the other window. He readjusts his position a ridiculous number of times, all the while mumbling under his breath about "catching a fucking pneumonia" and "freezing his tits off". 

Phil's nausea has mostly subsided by this point, but he stubbornly keeps the window down. " _Sorry_ for the inconvenience of my motion sickness," he says between Dan's moaning. 

There's no response. Phil rolls his eyes, deciding to ignore Dan's temper tantrum and instead stare out the window and take in the sights of New Zealand.

\----

They dump their suitcases on the floor, and Phil goes into the bathroom for a wee. When he comes back out, he sees that Dan has stripped down to his pants and is lying on one of the beds, looking at his phone. He glances up when he notices Phil exiting the bathroom. 

"Want to order pizza tonight?" Dan asks.

It's the first thing he's said since their little argument in the car; not that that was out of the ordinary, since they often went long periods without saying anything, having lived in each other's pockets for nearly ten years. 

Phil almost expects Dan to sulk a little longer, but apparently pizza wins out over pettiness. 

Pizza sounds amazing right now, but Phil shakes his head, opening his suitcase and pulling out a fresh shirt. He really should probably shower after a long plane ride, but he can't be bothered.

"We can't. We told Marianne and the others that we'd meet them downstairs for dinner, remember?" Phil pulls off his t-shirt and puts on the fresh one. He ignores Dan's literal whines as he fishes Dan's cologne out of his suitcase and sprays a liberal amount on to mask the smell of plane travel.

"Do I have to go?" Dan continues to whine. 

"Yes."

He watches as Dan flops over onto his stomach, spread out like a starfish. Unintelligible groans are muffled against the pillow. 

Phil empathizes. It had been a long day, and he also would much prefer snuggling up under the covers and gorging on pizza. But he also is not one to bail on plans. It just isn't a nice thing to do. Dan always argued that he often loved when people cancelled plans on him, so they would really just be doing others a favour by letting them off the hook. 

Phil rifles through Dan's suitcase again until he finds a shirt that's not too creased. He tosses it in Dan's general direction, letting out a small laugh when it lands directly on Dan's head. 

"Get up and get dressed, lazy arse. We have to be down in five minutes."

Dan just lets out another pitiful moan. 

"Dan."

"Ugh." Dan rolls over, pulling the shirt off his head and dropping it on the bed beside him. "I hate you."

"Love you too, babe," Phil says distractedly, looking around the room for where they put the room key. He finds it on the television stand, and slips it into his pocket along with his phone.

Dan is tugging his jeans back on, looking like a grumpy kitten. A cute little menace of a kitten. Phil grabs the cologne again and hands it to him.

"You smell like a rubbish bin."

"Gee, thanks." Dan spritzes himself, yawning as he does so.

"How are you even tired? You slept the whole flight." Phil could hear the irritation slipping through his tone. 

Dan rolls his eyes as he slips on his shoes. "Are you still pissed that I left you alone to talk to the golf dude? You need to learn to, like, assert yourself. Tell him you'd rather dip your penis in lava than hear him ramble on about golf for another second."

Phil snorts. "This is why you have no friends." Which isn't technically true, but whatever.

Dan nods contentedly. "Exactly."

\----

Phil is exhausted when they get back from dinner. It had been fine, a pleasant dinner with friends and coworkers, but his energy level was already low beforehand and the forced socializing had drained it down to the bottom of the scale. 

He knows Dan feels the same way, and they both wordlessly strip down to their pants and climb into bed. It's late, not as late as they usually go to bed, but late enough after a long day of travel and a long week of getting adjusted to different time zones. 

He turns and presses a quick kiss to Dan's cheek - well, more like his chin - and hears Dan murmur a slurred _g'night_ back. 

\----

They have a lazy lie-in the next morning, scrolling through Twitter and Instagram on their phones and watching bad telly until late afternoon. They have plans with a friend later though, so they eventually have to get their asses out of bed.

Dan is the first to reluctantly get up, trudging over to the shower. Phil scrolls through Facebook, stomach clenching as he looks at his mum's recent photos, pictures of the flowers in her garden and of his dad and her before his aunt's birthday dinner. Phil hates that he had to miss his aunt's birthday, and his cousin's engagement party last month. 

Dan hadn't been all that fussed when he missed his own cousin's birthday a couple months ago. He sympathized when Phil lamented about missing family events, but he didn't really _get_ it. He understands that family is important to Phil, but he doesn't have the same feelings about his own family that Phil does. 

Phil's thankful that at least he gets to see Martyn during tour, but god, he misses his parents so much. His heart tugs as he looks at his mum's smiling face in the photo. He wants to speak to her, to Facetime her and actually see that smiling face live. It still wouldn't be the same as seeing her in person, but it would be better, would maybe calm some of the homesickness he has started to feel creeping up in his chest the past few days.

The time difference has been too large lately, and he has only been able to exchange texts with his mum, often short unsubstantial things with long periods of time between replies. Phil feels tears welling up in his eyes, stomach tightening with the longing feeling to just hear his mum's voice. 

He feels a little silly, because he's in his thirties and apparently can't handle not talking to his mother for a couple weeks. Dan's still in the shower, but Phil suddenly feels a keen anxious feeling to get his turn in the shower, so he can maybe cry a little alone. 

He knows Dan wouldn't judge him if he came out of the bathroom to find Phil crying about missing his mum, knows he would try to console him. He wouldn't quite understand, because Dan can go months with just a handful of occasional texts to his own mother; but he would try to understand, would wrap his arms around Phil and hold him until everything felt just a bit better, a bit easier to deal with.

Phil doesn't want that though, because he has done so well this tour, has genuinely had an amazing time, and the tour is so close to being done. He doesn't want to fall apart now, and he's frankly too tired to fall apart now. 

Phil drops his phone down on the bed, running his hand through his greasy fringe. He feels irritation taking over the sadness, his body fighting to feel _some_ emotion, but Phil fighting back to push the sad feeling away. As Dan continues to take his sweet time in the shower, Phil feels his pent-up emotions pushing more and more towards annoyance. 

He walks towards the open bathroom door and calls out, "Dan! You almost done in there?"

Dan's voice is breathless and slightly high-pitched when he responds, "Just a minute!". Phil listens closer, and he can hear the unmistakable sound of skin stroking against skin amidst the water falling from the showerhead.

Phil huffs, flopping back on the unused bed behind him. 

"Sure, take your time wanking, it's not like anyone else is waiting for the shower," he calls out, hopefully not loud enough that any hotel neighbours heard him.

He closes his eyes, pressing his palms against his eyes. He doesn't give a shit that Dan chose to have a wank in the shower without him - Phil definitely wasn't even in the mood for sex this morning, and they each had their fair share of solo shower wanks when they felt like it. He's just frustrated that Dan's having a nice time in the shower right now, when all Phil wants to do in the shower is have a good cry.

Dan exits the bathroom a few minutes later, looking flush and satisfied. It just makes Phil even more irked. 

"Feel better?" he asks, tone tetchy, as Dan drops his towel and pulls a pair of pants out of his suitcase.

Dan pulls the boxers on, turning around to give Phil a weird look. "What's up with you?" He quirks an eyebrow. 

"Nothing." Phil's aware he manages to make that one word sound particularly icy.

"Okay..." Dan pulls on a pair of jeans. "Are you mad at me or something?" He cocks his head, like he's trying to figure out what Phil wants. 

_Good luck with that,_ Phil thinks, humourlessly. Even he doesn't know what he wants.

"Do you want me to get you off? I didn't think you were in the mood, or whatever." Dan shrugs. "I can give you a blowjob?"

Phil just huffs again, pulling himself up off the bed, and ignoring Dan's offer. "I'm going to shower." 

"Take your time," Phil hears Dan mutter to himself as Phil walks into the bathroom, so Phil slams the door shut harder than necessary. He doesn't really blame Dan though for not wanting to be around him when he's in this cranky mood.

He doesn't cry in the shower, but he does spend a really long time staring at the white wall and trying to let the warm water relieve the headache that had suddenly appeared.

\----

Phil's feeling quite a bit better by the time they meet their friend for an early dinner. 

It's a nice time. They chat, laugh, joke around, and Phil's feeling even better when they get back to their hotel room late that night. There's still an aura of fatigue setting in his bones, but he feels in a much lighter mood than earlier today.

Dan kicks off his shoes and flops onto one of the beds, Phil doing the same and laying down next to him. He's flicking through the poor option of channels on the television when Dan's suddenly kissing his jaw. 

"Want to have sex tonight?"

Phil shrugs, but tilts his head up to allow Dan access to his neck. They hadn't done much of anything in a few weeks, their hectic tour schedule leaving little time and energy for much more than a couple quick handjobs. "If you want."

Dan pulls his mouth away from his neck, just enough to speak. His hand inches under Phil's shirt, kneading the soft skin of his hip. "Do you not want? You seemed kind of pissed that I got off without you this morning."

Phil rolls his eyes even though Dan isn't looking at his face. "It wasn't about that, you spork."

Dan pulls back more, peering up at Phil. "Oh. What was it about then?"

Phil waves his hand dismissively. He doesn't want to talk about his vague homesickness right now. "Was just in a shit mood."

"Aw, was Philly feeling grumpy?" Dan teases in a baby voice. He slips his hand further up Phil's shirt, tickling his fingers over his ribs.

Phil giggles, slapping Dan's hand away. His cock stirs in interest, because his body somehow always responds that way when Dan tickles him. He feels more tension slip away as Dan puts his mouth back on him, sucking gently along his collarbone. Dan's hand slides back down Phil's torso, slipping just under the waistband of his jeans and scratching lightly through the patch of hair there. 

His hand trails down lower, fingers curling around Phil's still mostly soft cock. Phil sighs at the touch, the warmth of Dan's large hand a pleasant feeling even when he's not hard and desperate for the contact. 

Dan strokes jerkily inside Phil's jeans, the angle awkward where they lay and the friction a bit too rough for Phil's liking. 

"Babe." Phil squirms away, pulling softly at Dan's wrist to dislodge it from Phil's pants. 

Dan detaches his lips from Phil's skin and quirks his eye questionably, silently asking what Phil needs.

"Gonna grab the lube." Phil hops off the bed. "Which suitcase?"

"Mine, I think." 

Phil searches for all of five seconds. "It's not here."

"Maybe try actually moving things around." 

"I _am_." He's not. Phil hates looking for things, never bothering to actually look in the back of cupboards or closets. If it's not in his direct line of sight, it's as good as not being there at all.

"Did you check in the pocket thing?" Dan's voice is slightly strained. Phil looks over his shoulder to see Dan has his half-hard cock pulled out of his jeans, mostly covered by his massive hand that's stroking along the length.

"You're so bloody impatient." Phil shakes his head, but his own cock thickens. He wants those hands on it. He's filled with a burst of lust, and he should be surprised that he still can feel such intense want for Dan after all these years, but he's come to realize that feeling will probably never completely go away for them.

He finds the lube a moment later, exactly where Dan said it was. 

"Told you," Dan smirks as Phil triumphantly carries the lube back to the bed.

"It was actually at the bottom of your suitcase," Phil lies, because he can't always let Dan have that satisfaction of being right.

He quickly pulls all his clothes off before climbing back onto the bed.

"In a hurry there?" Dan laughs, but Phil can see the way his eyes trail over Phil's body. Phil's eyes do the same as Dan pulls off his own clothes. 

"Oh, you trimmed." Dan's pubic hair looks perfectly neat and tidy. Phil instantly feels a bit self-conscious about his own unruly hair down there - he just hasn't been bothered to keep up with grooming lately, especially since they'd mostly been living out of the tour bus until recently. Well, okay, they had stayed in a lot of hotels during that time too, but Phil was allowed to be a little lazy. It's not like he thinks Dan would really care that much anyway; they'd both seen each other in all states and neither were that picky. 

Dan just laughs. "Thought I might score with the hot security dude," he jokes. He crawls over on top of Phil's legs, slinking down and taking Phil's still mostly soft cock into his mouth. He grins up at Phil, and it doesn't take long before Phil is fully hard in his mouth.

Not long after, Phil is slicking his dick up with lube and lining up with Dan's ass. The blowjob had been nice, but short-lived, both of them in a hurry to get on with it, to finally actually fuck after far too long.

He slides inside slowly, bracing his hands on either side of Dan's torso as he presses flush against Dan's hips. 

"Good?" 

Dan holds up a finger to indicate for Phil to wait, adjusting his hips. He swears loudly as his adjusting apparently causes Phil's cock to hit the wrong spot or dig in too hard or something.

"Careful." Phil winces at the apparent pain Dan had just caused himself.

Dan stills, glaring up at Phil. "Stop moving a sec."

"I didn't even move! You did." God, Dan could be so stubborn sometimes.

"Hold on, I just need a sec." 

Phil sighs quietly. He probably should have spent a little longer opening Dan up. They'd been in too much of a rush.

"Okay, I'm good, I think." Dan moves his hips in small circles. Phil's cock aches, and it takes some restraint not to immediately thrust into Dan's tight hole.

"You sure?" 

" _Yes_ , I'm sure. Come on, fuck me." Dan wraps his own hand around his cock, lying half hard against his own stomach. He begins pumping it, trying to work it back up to full hardness.

Phil begins fucking into Dan, but he can't seem to find the right rhythm. His mind keeps wandering to their bed back home, how much more comfortable it is than this cheap hotel bed. He thinks of their sofa, the little store down the street, his family home, his mum - oh god, why is he thinking of his mum right now?! He quickly tries to push that thought away, and thankfully Dan's voice breaks into this thoughts.

"Phil. Phil! A little to the right, babe. No, not there. Yeah. No. Phil, are you listening, mate? No, a little higher. Harder."

Phil tries to do as he is instructed, but it seems that no matter what he does, it isn't working for Dan. His cock is still lying half-hard between them. Phil takes it in his hand and jerks it hard, but his efforts appear to be useless.

His own urges seem to be fading away. He's still rock hard inside Dan's ass, but he's just going through the motions, trying to please Dan, trying to please himself, but his head is somewhere else entirely. He doesn't feel the drive, doesn't feel the pleasurable beginnings of an orgasm creeping in. 

Phil sighs, slowing stilling his motions. Dan follows suit, also slowing the rocking of his hips, that they couldn't quite get in sync with Phil's own thrusts tonight.

Dan smiles ruefully up at him as they both still completely. 

"Sorry babe, I'm just not feeling it tonight," Phil says, hearing the regretful tone in his own voice. He pulls out of Dan slowly, his hard cock slapping back against his stomach. 

Dan sighs, but he reaches his arms up and pulls Phil down to lie beside him. "Me neither, to be honest." He yawns. "Tired."

"Ugh. Same."

"And annoyed that the sex was so shit."

Phil laughs, not at all offended. The sex was usually good. Great, mostly. He isn't insecure enough about their relationship to worry about the odd bad night. But he is annoyed too. He really could have used a good orgasm to release some of the heaviness he was still feeling in his core.

Dan looks pointedly down at Phil's still hard cock, and Phil follows his gaze. "Need me to get you off?"

Phil shakes his head. It is late, and he just wants to go to sleep now. His erection would go down on its own soon enough. 

\----

Phil spends hours playing video games the next day. Way too many hours.

Usually, he loves sitting around and playing games, with no immediate responsibilities to answer to. He's bored today though, feeling antsy, and a need to _do_ something, to do something that won't make him feel like crawling out of his own skin.

He sighs, dropping his Switch controller on the mattress beside him. His fingers itch towards his phone, the overwhelming urge to call his mum almost convincing him to go through with it, despite it being the middle of the night back in England. 

Phil glares over at Dan's sleeping lump on the other bed. He lets out a snuffly snore, which Phil would often find sort of cute, but it just makes his irritation thicken. 

Dan has been sleeping all day. It is almost two in the afternoon, and he has only gotten up once to stumble over to the toilet and then back to bed again. 

It's not like Phil can't handle a morning alone. He likes having Dan around, just hanging out in the same space as him even if they don't talk for hours at a time. Today, though, he really wishes Dan would wake the fuck up already and provide him with some company.

He feels lonely right now, really lonely, which is silly. He likes being alone. And he's been surrounded by people for the last few months. 

Phil flops over frustratingly, thudding his fists once against the pillow. His blood boils at the fact that Dan is still sleeping peacefully a few meters away. It's irrational anger, deep down he knows that, but that doesn't stop him from feeling it.

Phil checks his phone again. They have to leave for the venue in less than an hour. He knows Dan wants a shower before the show tonight, and a petty thought crosses Phil's mind, to not wake Dan up and leave him with no time to get ready. _It'd be his own fault for being such a lazy arsehole_. 

The thought leaves his mind almost as soon as it enters, because it's stupid and childish, and god, Phil suddenly feels the urge to scream. Or curl up in a ball on the floor. Either option sounds perfectly suitable.

He doesn't do either. Instead, he gets up and shakes Dan's shoulder - maybe a little rougher than is necessary - until he wakes up, notifies him that they have to leave soon, and starts getting ready himself.

\----

Phil turns over aggressively, pulling the covers up to his chin and shoving his face into his pillow. A second later he gives up, turning to lay flat on his back, head turned up frustratingly toward the ceiling despite his eyes still being closed.

"Can you _please_ turn that down?" he asks, for the third time.

"I did."

"Well then turn it down more." Phil turns over onto his side again, staring at the hotel alarm clock. 2:27 a.m. "Or just turn it off. Go to sleep." He can't sleep with a television fucking blaring in the background in the middle of the night. 

"I'm not tired." 

"Wonder why," Phil mutters.

"Hmm?" 

"Maybe if you'd actually gotten out of bed at a normal time..." Phil turns over onto his stomach, trying to get comfortable. This mattress is so fucking lumpy. He makes a mental note to write a strongly worded email after they leave.

"Is it a crime to sleep in now?" Dan sounds agitated. Phil kind of likes that, kind of likes that he's passing on his own sour mood. 

"When you do it all the time, yeah. Not even like you had an excuse this time." Phil's voice is muffled slightly by the pillow, but he knows Dan can hear him.

"What is that supposed to mean?" There's even more irritation in Dan's voice this time.

Phil groans internally, and flops back over onto his back, staring blankly at the annoying television instead of meeting Dan's eyes. "Nothing. Can you just turn the television off now?"

"So, when I have an 'excuse' to sleep all day it's fine? You'll tolerate it then? Gee, thanks, Phil." 

Dan sounds angry now, and a tad bit hurt. Phil keeps a blank face, because he feels less like a terribly petty person this way rather than admitting that just behind the surface, yes, he knowingly said what he did with that flippant off-hand comment. He was trying to hurt Dan, and he went with a low blow, something shamefully cruel. And they both knew it.

Phil keeps his eyes trained on the television. The image is blurry, an almost desperate need for sleep consuming him. "Look, I didn't mean - "

"No, it's fine," Dan says, voice fake. "No worries, I'll be sure to only make phone calls for you when you have a good enough 'excuse' to not do it yourself."

Phil sighs. He feels tired and angry and sad and ashamed, and so many other emotions that he can't even identify right now. He turns to face Dan.

"I really didn't - I'm just - "

Dan cuts him off, flicking the television off and settling down on his side next to Phil. "I know." He sighs quietly. "Let's just go to sleep." His lips curl up into a small smile. "We clearly both need it."

Phil nods, tucking himself closer to Dan and pressing his knees up against Dan's thighs. "Really am sorry. Didn't mean it." 

"I know." 

Phil could tell that he really did know that. "Love you," he murmurs, as he drifts off to sleep.

\----

They both sleep in late the next day. Phil wakes up past noon, and he should feel well-rested, but instead he feels like there's a tonne of bricks on his chest. It's a familiar feeling, though one usually reserved for making scary phone calls or confrontations with strangers. 

God, he'd been such a dick to Dan last night. The memory makes him feel even worse. He slips out of bed, padding his way over to the bathroom. Maybe a hot shower will help clear his head. He feels like he's been slipping in and out of this weird mood for days, feeling fine one minute and then irritable and moody the next.

He knows it's fatigue and homesickness, and despite how much of a genuinely amazing time he's been having the past few months, he's just _tired_. 

The shower doesn't help much. Phil exits the bathroom as Dan is getting out of bed.

"Morning." Dan's lips brush against Phil's cheek in greeting as he walks past him into the bathroom.

"Morning." Phil drops his towels on the floor and pulls on comfy joggers and a t-shirt to lounge around in until they need to leave for the airport.

He's sat on the bed, staring at his phone and debating how to answer his mum's last text - _yeah been good, had a blast at Harry and Sue's yesterday_ \- without sounding like a lame, whiny child, when Dan comes back out of the bathroom. Apparently his mother is having the time of her life with a full social calendar while he is sitting here missing her. 

It's not like he even sees her, or the rest of his family, all that often when they're back home in London, but still. At least they're all in the same bloody timezone there.

"Have you seen my shirt? The black and white stripey one?" Dan's voice cuts into Phil's thoughts.

"The one you were wearing the other day?" Phil slides his phone back into his pocket, looking up to find Dan digging through his suitcase.

"Mhmm," Dan hums in confirmation, tossing articles of clothing aside and digging further into his suitcase.

"I put it with the dirty clothes." Phil motions toward the plastic bag reserved for clothing that needed to be washed, a method to keep those items separate from their clean clothes.

Dan whips his head around. "Why did you do that?" he asks, tone accusatory. "I wanted to wear that today."

Phil doesn't have the energy for this conversation. "Just wear another shirt."

"I wanted to wear that one."

"Oh my god, Dan. Wear literally any other shirt."

"I don't know why you think you can just do whatever you want with my stuff," Dan grumbles, dramatically pulling another shirt from his suitcase and tugging it onto his head. 

Phil rolls his eyes at the ceiling. "You wore that shirt a whole day. And sweat in it. It needed to be washed."

"Oi, alright, didn't realize I'd signed myself up for a nagging husband before we're even married."

Phil bristles. "I won't touch your fucking stuff anymore, okay? Jesus." He doesn't need to deal with Dan's attitude today, really doesn't need it.

"Sure, like I believe that," Dan mumbles to himself, but loud enough for Phil to hear, as he stuffs his pile of clothes back into his suitcase.

Phil feels tears prickling at the corners of his eyes. It's a dumb argument, the kind they've had millions of times before, but today he feels too... emotionally vulnerable, or something. He just doesn't feel right today.

"I'm sorry about your stupid shirt, for fuck's sake." Phil's voice cracks on the last word, and Dan must hear it, because he stops packing his suitcase and turns to look at him.

Phil crumples as soon as he looks into Dan's eyes, ugly tears spilling down his cheeks in fat blobs. 

"Phil?" Dan looks confused, or at least that's what Phil comprehends from the now blurry face in front of him.

Phil draws his feet up onto the bed, burying his face into his hands and sobbing freely. He feels Dan's hand on his back a moment later.

"Babe? Phil, I'm sorry, I was being an ass, I know - "

Phil shakes his head, removing his hands from his face and sniffling as he tries to get himself under control. "It's not - " His body is wracked with another sob. "I'm just - " 

He gives up trying to get another word out, slowly feeling some of the tension he's been holding the past few days release with his tears. Dan's hand is moving in a soothing circular motion on his back, and despite the fact that he's crying, Phil is starting to feel lighter than he has in days.

When he finally has himself under control, Phil instinctively pulls Dan closer for a tight hug. Dan squeezes back just as tight, pressing a kiss to the top of Phil's head. 

"Alright, mate?"

Phil nods, pulling back slightly, but still keeping his entire left side pressed firmly against Dan's right side. He already feels a thousand times better; not completely, but a good cry was definitely what he needed. He wishes he'd done that sooner, wishes he could release his emotions in the form of tears as easily as Dan could. It's not that he's ashamed of crying, just that his body doesn't give into it quite as easily as some people's do.

"What's wrong?" Dan squeezes Phil's thigh. "I mean, besides the whole laundry thing. But it's more than that, yeah?"

Phil nods again. "I just haven't been feeling great the last few days." He shrugs half-heartedly. "I'm, like, really missing home. My mum, and my dad and everyone. And just everything." He's aware how vague that sounds, but Dan's nodding along. "And just, you know, really tired and stuff."

"I feel you there." Dan laughs lightly. "We've both been pretty cranky lately, huh?"

Phil smiles back. "Yeah, you can say that." It's not like they're never snippy with each other on a normal basis, but he knows they've been extra tetchy this past week.

Dan pulls lightly at Phil's hand, guiding him until they're both laying flat on their backs, feet dangling over the edge of bed. He rubs his thumb over Phil's hand. "Sorry for any dick things I've done or said this past week. Or ever." He pauses, smiling playing on his lips. "Or, for anything in the future, too." He grins, turning on his side to face Phil. "Does that count, and get me out of apologizing for anything ever again?"

Phil laughs, poking Dan's stomach. "Not how that works, mate. I expect apologies on a silver platter for every single fight in the future."

Dan pretends to get up. "I'm out, then."

"Get back here, you dork." Phil pulls him back down, entangling their fingers again. "Sorry for all my shitty behaviour, too." His voice gets more serious, and he turns his head to meet Dan's eyes. "Really sorry about last night. What I said isn't true, you know that, right?"

Dan nods, squeezing their hands tighter. "Yeah, I know, Phil."

Phil leans in for a quick kiss to Dan's lips. "Love you."

"Can we just cuddle until we have to leave?" Dan's voice is soft, and Phil loves all versions of Dan, but Dan at his softest and most vulnerable is one of his favourites.

Phil responds by tugging Dan closer and wrapping his arms around him, feeling his heartbeat against his own. The heaviness from this morning is gone. He still feels the lingering homesickness, and he knows it will return again before the tour is done, but for now he feels content. Safe and content.

He might not physically be home, but he has his home with him, wrapped up in his arms.

**Author's Note:**

> Title from "Home" by One Direction
> 
>  
> 
> tumblr post [ here ](https://onedirectionticketss1.tumblr.com/post/178110108453/title-make-this-feel-like-home-word-count-61k)


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